One more day
by Precious93
Summary: Clint wishes for one more chance...


**A/N: This story is inspired by the song One More Day by Diamond Rio. I find many different ways to interpret this song and decided that I didn't want tragedy, so instead I give you angst and romance! Please, please, please leave a review! I'll give you cookies! Please?**

**One more thing- I do not own these beautiful characters, I am simply using them to play out the random stories in my mind...**

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**One more day...**

He sat there on the roof, strumming the guitar. The one she had bought him for their first Christmas together. She had learned a few weeks prior that he loved playing and that his guitar was inadequate. At least, that's how she saw it. He didn't care that it was falling apart, just that it created music. She got him an identical one that year for Christmas. He tried to hide his shock and joy, but nothing could get past her.

Now, he is strumming that same guitar, singing the music she can barely tolerate: country music. Not that it's particularly bad music, she just doesn't like that twang of it. Of course, the newer country music isn't as bad, most of it she actually likes. It's older country that she can't stand.

The song he is singing is sad, like a lot of the music he sings. She never liked hearing such sad tunes, though she understood why he sang them. Songs reveal our innermost thoughts and fears and hopes. Not to say that he is always singing sad songs, he sings happier songs, too. He just prefers the slower, melancholy of tunes.

He sat on the roof, looking out over the city. Strumming his guitar and singing the song, his mind wandered to the woman causing his distress. The fight they had, the mission she took afterward. She moved out of his room and hadn't spoken to him since, unless a mission required it. They were both too stubborn to apologize and forgive. Nasty things were yelled and screamed. She slapped him and ran out in near-tears. He went after her but she had left. She called Fury to give her a mission and left as soon as she could, not wanting to resolve this issue.

Her mission was more difficult than they had originally planned. She was injured badly and lost a lot of blood. He was scared that the last time they spoke, the hateful words uttered, were going to be their last. Thankfully she pulled through, but she would not see him, would not let him make amends. He gave up and left her alone, though he hated himself for it. He hated her for it too.

He missed her. He wanted her back and would give anything for one more day with her, even if it was just to apologize. He would be happy if he could have one more day with her, but then again, he would still be wishing for one more day.

If he could have one more day with her, he would hold her every second, he would watch the sunset with her and tell her she was beautiful. He would take back all that he said and do anything to convince her that he didn't mean it, because he didn't. He never meant to say those words, never meant to hurt her. What he said was unforgivable and he knew it, but he still had to try.

He needed one more day with her so he could show her that he loved her, that he would do anything to make sure he never hurt her again. Then, if she still wanted him gone, he would go, but not before he tried one more time.

He stopped strumming his guitar and whipped his head around when he heard footstep behind him. She was there, three feet away from him. How had he not noticed her before? She stepped closer to him and gestured to the space on the ledge next to him.

_May I sit with you? _the gestured said.

He nodded once.

She caressed the next of the guitar and looked up at him questioningly. _What are you playing?_

He shook his head. _Nothing._

She moved her fingers over the strings listening to its soft resonance. _Play for me?_

He moved his hands back into position and started playing the song again.

"_Last night I had a crazy dream. A wish was granted just for me, it could be for anything. I didn't ask for money or a mansion in Malibu. I simply wished for one more day with you._"

She watched his hand, calloused from years of archery, ghosting over the strings. She looked to his eyes to read him, but she found that he had his walls up. He wouldn't show her how he felt, keeping his emotions and thoughts hidden from her.

"_First thing I'd do, is pray for time to crawl. Then I'd unplug the telephone and keep the TV off. I'd hold you every second, say a million 'I love you's. That's what I'd do, with one more day with you_."

She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to feel. She didn't know why she had come up here in the first place. She was still angry at him, or at least, she thought she was. Now she wasn't so sure. He was telling her, clear as day, that he wanted her. That he still loved her and that he wishes she would come back to him.

But the last they were together, he broke her heart- shattered it into a million pieces. She knows that if she lets him in again, he could tear her down. She wanted so much for that to not happen, but she was scared to get hurt.

"I'm sorry," she breathed, bowing her head.

"No, Tasha. No. I should be saying sorry, you did nothing wrong. I said hateful things, I hurt you. I never meant to hurt you, Tash. As much as you'll hate me for saying it, I want to protect you." He cupped her face in his hand and met her eyes. She huffed a laugh at that.

"I don't need protecting," she rolled her eyes.

"That doesn't mean I can't help fight your battles."

"I guess not. Clint, I am sorry too. I pushed you away; I didn't give you a second chance. You know, like you gave me." She blushed.

"Hey, I probably would've done the same if you acted the way I did. I don't blame you and you shouldn't either."

"Can we just forget about this and make up?" She sighed.

Clint chuckled. "Yeah, sure. I know just how to do that." I put the guitar to the side and scooped her into his arms. She did not-did not- squeal like a school girl. He kissed her sweetly and then carried her over to the elevator. Once inside he dropped her feet to the ground, but didn't let go of her.

They got off at Clint floor of the tower, it's was before hers, and the fell onto the couch, laughing. He tried to tickle her, and succeeded, until she kicked him in the stomach. She only felt slightly bad about that. Once they settled down, he kissed her slow and sweet.

When they finally pulled away from each other, she snuggled into his side. He grabbed the remote and turned on the giant flat-screen TV Stark had installed on every floor. He flipped on the Disney movie _Beauty and the Beast_. It was Natasha's favorite. She snuggled closer and they watched the movie in silence. They watched _The Lion King _and _The Little Mermaid_. Nat fell asleep halfway through _Tangled_.

Clint turned off the television and carried her into the bedroom, carefully, so he wouldn't wake her. He set her down on the bed and climbed in next to her. He pulled her against him, his arm draped over her hip, her head pillowed on his arm.

As he drifted off to sleep he thanked whatever god that might be listening for his one more day. He thanked them for the possibility of more than one day with her...

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**A/N: Now- REVIEW! **


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